The children all had wires and cables hooked to their bodies, umbilical-like attachments connected to their stomachs. It seemed they got air from this, or perhaps the blue liquid that surrounded them, for wore any kind of breathing apparatus, but still appeared to be alive and healthy.
Probes stuck in the children's brains, monitored blood pressure, blood oxygen and monitor their hearts, in addition to whatever else they did. The older Sarahs had more hair obscuring these probes, but wires could still be seen trailing from their skulls.
Life support equipment occupied the adjacent wall, banks of monitors displaying data from all those sensors. I recognized the EKG and EEG right away due to popularity in movies. Only one of these had `flat lined', an empty tank, presumably where our Sarah came from.
I stared at Rebecca in confusion. "I thought human babies came out of mommy's tummy."
She furrowed her brow. "They do."
I still didn't get it. The instructional materials I'd reviewed hadn't been that instructive. "So...they come here to get babies put in their tummies?"
Rebecca shuddered. "No."
"Sarah," I whispered, unsure if I addressed my friend or described the contents of the tanks.
"She's a clone," Kihoon cried. "That's why she's got numbers on her neck!"
He pressed his face against one of the tanks, staring at an older Sarah. "They've all got them!"
"What's a clone?" I asked.
He looked at me like I were a moron. "Haven't you seen Resident Evil? Star Wars? Anything?"
I didn't understand the references. I've watched a lot of movies, but not that much. "Were the shaggy bandoleer wearing creatures clones?"
Blank stare. "Huh? Shaggy?"
I did my impression of a Wookiee. "Urrrggh?"
"No." He smacked his face. "Never mind. The point is, someone took a test tube or something and made all these...Sarahs."
A human farm.
Somehow, some person had developed a method for creating an infinite number of the same little girl. Our Sarah...just another clone in a long line of clones.
My mouth hung open in shock.
It seemed to imply Sydjea had been justified in her non painful methods of acquiring meat, provided we ate only Sarah and not naturally produced human beings.
But did an endless supply of clones really justify their consumption? She was my friend, after all...No matter how many of them there were.
Of course, I couldn't mention any of that to the children, their answer would universally be no. It's human nature to want to protect all human life, even a copy of a copy of a copy.
In the time of the Apostles, the markets were full of meat discarded from the temples of false gods. For this reason, Paul abstained from eating meat, for fear of leading anyone astray. While not exactly the same situation, I did come to the conclusion that it would make me a hypocrite for killing Sydjea, and cause other Ss'sik'chtokiwij to stumble.
Despite the Sarahs being identical, their lives still had value, and the children would never understand me snacking on any of them. Furthermore, if my near death experience could be believed, they even had souls.
I seemed to be destined for a life of eating synthetic bacon, canned meat and bean curds.
As I considered this, I noticed a darkened staircase on one side of the chamber, leading to another security door. It seemed that these secrets of this place had their own secrets.
The lights dimmed, the backups switching on.
"We should go," Kihoon said.
I turned around, preparing to leave.
"Wait," said Rebecca. "I want to see what's in the other rooms."
The other two children looked uncomfortable, but didn't protest. We retraced our steps to the nurse's station, beginning our tour.
Most of the wards had curtains pulled across their windows, their doors closed.
The nurse's station contained an assortment of tablet computers and monitors displaying the interiors of various rooms. Dozens of rooms, all with the same design and layout:
Single bed with maroon bed coverings, sterile white pillows and comforters.
Overbed patient table, small desk with padded leather chair.
A flimsy metal closet, little bathroom, framed reproductions of Sunday on La Grande Jatte, Van Gogh's Starry Night and Mondrian's Composition II in Red, Blue and Yellow.
Each ward contained a different Sarah, each engaged in a slightly different activity.
The Sarah in Room 11 lay asleep.
The Sarah in Room 3 picked at a plate of synthetic meat, peas and carrots.
Sarah 14 flicked her Brussels sprouts on the floor.
Ten sat on the edge of her bed with a helmet-like electronic device on her head, staring absently at a wall.
Number 8 worked on a 3D picture puzzle.
Seven showered. Six dried off.
Number 4 played with dolls, talking to them.
Five lay in bed, gazing at the Seurat.
An android that looked exactly like Mara read Number Nine a story. Another copy of Mara busily tucked in One.
Number 12 screamed and pounded the door to her room, but the rooms appeared to be soundproofed, I couldn't hear anything, not even the bump of her fists against metal. Of course, I guessed, this may not have been the only floor.
Number 15 calmly stared at the camera.
In another room, one more like a lab than a ward, Sarah lay an examination table, getting an IV of orange fluid inserted in her arm. A medical room on a different screen showed fluids being taken out of her body.
Ward 2 actually had its curtains open. When Rebecca peeked through the glass, the Sarah inside got startled and sat up, making like she intended to leave, but a bony looking little woman with spiky black hair injected the girl with a sedative and pulled the curtain closed.
A dark haired man with a weathered face marched out a door at the end of the hall. I quickly abandoned the nurse's station, tugging on Rebecca's arm. "We should go."
We grabbed Sarah and Kihoon, but it was too late. The moment we reached the key slot, a copy of Mara with the name `Darii' on her jumpsuit stepped in our path. "Leaving so soon?"
"Please, mom," Sarah cried. "Don't put me back in there. I'll do anything you want."
Darii gave her an unpleasant smile. "I know you will. And I've got a special room picked out just for you."
Kihoon glanced at Sarah with unease. "Yo. Number Neck. You okay with this?"
Sarah shook her head violently.
Kihoon crossed his arms. "I'm afraid there's a problem, Miss. You see, the young lady doesn't want to go, and I'm not going to let you take her."
"She's my daughter," Darii said in a cold but even tone. "I can do what I want with my daughter."
"Funny, because I've already seen two of you around the base, and you all claim to be her mother. One of you has to be lying."
"I don't know what you're referring to."
"Of course you don't. But Sarah knows what you apparently don't. A good mother doesn't come with batteries."
Darii slapped him so hard that he fell over.
"Don't you hurt my friends!" Rebecca shouted, kicking the robot in the shins.
The robot shoved her to the floor, dragging Sarah down the carpet.
"Sic `em, Ernie!" Kihoon shouted.
I choked.
It's like how humans describe marriage. You spend half your life being told not to do certain things with your body, and then all of a sudden you're officially sanctioned to do them, and you don't know what to do with the freedom.
Plus, Mara had been a better mother to me than my own mother had been. Well, one of the Maras, at least.
"Ernie!" the boy yelled. "What are you doing! Tear that bitch a new asshole!"
Growling, I charged after the robot, leaping just seconds before she placed her palm on a door lock.
My claws tore through her fake skin like butter, milky white coolant spraying all over the carpeting as I ripped through vital machine components.
As I yanked out the woman's artificial arms, Kihoon shouted for help.
I glanced back. A pair of Maras and the black haired man had grabbed my friends.
A female with a patch reading Datisi pinned Rebecca's arms behind her back. The other, Camestres, held Kihoon, the man standing by, in case the boy caused further trouble.
The man, Bishop, worried me most of all.
"Let me go!" Kihoon shouted. "I won't tell a soul about this! Swear to God!"
"I know you won't," said Camestres. "When we're done with you, you won't say anything."
The boy screamed until they put him out with a syringe to the neck.
I had just barely turned my head around when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, the shape of the spike haired smaller woman, electric cattle prod poised in her hands.
A second later, I lay on the floor, convulsing in the pool of android coolant as I helplessly watched Bishop and the women carry my friends away.
Then it was my turn.
Another Mara, this one a tougher one named Disamis, aided my attacker in restraining me.
Instead of being dragged down the corridor with my friends, I got shocked and dragged back the way I came, down that twisting cavern tunnel, to the room with all the Sarahs.
The lights dimmed as they carried me downstairs. The air smelled even more stale.
The people in the base needed oxygen. They'd suffocate if we didn't go back and fix things. I had to get out of there and fix the power. I just had to.
I prayed that someone else on the base, anyone, would ignore the quarantine and come fix the power, but everything I learned about God told me that the one praying is often His first pick for the task. Maybe the only one picked.
I had to get out!
As I bumped down the steps, I fought against Disamis's grip, but she didn't let go, and the small one, Call, jolted me with the cattle prod again.
If only I could knock that prod out of her hands!
Unfortunately, I still reeled from the electrical shock.
They carried me through another door, into a laboratory. Lockers full of chemicals, plants under fluorescents. Rows of computers, surgical tools, containers of human body parts and fetuses in formaldehyde.
And then I saw them.
Rows of tables occupied by pregnant women.
Drugged into unconsciousness by gas masks, their bodies lay in a state of perpetual atrophy, only kept alive by intravenous feeding tubes.
If this hadn't been horrific enough, I noticed they all looked like grown up versions of Sarah.
The androids threw me onto the stiff vinyl padding of an empty examination table.
"What are you doing?" I cried.
Call fitted my limbs with restraints. "We know about you. The alien that talks."
Disamis held my arms down, to keep me from escaping the cuffs. "We don't mind you talking. In fact, we would hate to undo Dr. Chesterton's scientific achievements by removing your ability to communicate."
"However, there are some things in which you must not, under any circumstance, speak about."
"So we're going to play a little game."
The females brought forth a domed device with wires and little posts protruding out of it.
I trembled. "What is that!"
"Remember all those weeks you spent in Rosedale Square? This is very similar."
Weeks? I thought it had only been days! "No! I almost died removing those probes! My head is damaged! Leave my patches alone!"
"Relax, Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik. Those were only to study your brain patterns. We only need one port to connect you to the system." Disamis took out one of those industrial needles they use for dental operations and major bone surgery, injecting me with something. I guess they must have researched it previously, for I at once became drowsy.
Disamis stroked my shell. "There there...Just relax...We'll have those pesky memories out of there in no time."
They stuck a wire into my brain, and my vision got hazier.
Everything around me melted away, and I found myself...somewhere else.
I lay on a bed in a hotel room with tan diamond wallpaper trimmed in a maroon color. Dressers, a nightstand with lamp, a bathroom, and a large window with venetian blinds. A black camera bubble peered down at me from above.
I threw aside the comforters and got up, trying the big iron door.
Locked from the outside.
I found a keyhole, but saw nothing to put into it.
I spat a glob of slime at it, but a machine sprayed down foaming substances, and my acid stopped bubbling before it could melt anything.
This seemed to be a prison.
Simple enough, I thought as I pulled up the blinds, trying the window.
Not designed to be opened. When I rammed the full weight of my body against the glass, nothing happened. It didn't even crack.
Trapped!
I stared out the window in frustration.
If I could believe what I saw, I'd been placed in the center of a ghost town, a strange looking row of shops with western facades and a large gazebo in the center.
Sighing, I sat on the covers I'd shredded with various jagged body parts, opening the nightstand.
To my delight, I found a bible.
As I turned to Luke, a key fell from the Psalms section, dropping on the carpet.
Someone, it seemed, had been playing a game at my expense.
I tried the key in the door, and the iron barrier slid into the wall, allowing me outside.
I crept into a hallway, wallpapering exactly like my room, with rows of rooms on either side.
"What is this Myst game bullshit!" Kihoon grumbled as he shoved his way out a nearby door.
A moment later, another door slowly opened, and Sarah appeared. Rebecca popped out another.
We all stared at each other in puzzlement.
"What the fuck?" said Kihoon.
I kept looking around. Again, the place lacked depth in the scent department. "Is this a part of Rosedale Square?"
Sarah frowned. "I...don't think so."
Cautiously, we crept through the hallway, checking all the doors, but we only found ours unlocked, all identical looking rooms.
Well, identical except for my metal security gate.
A balustraded set of stairs appeared to be the only exit.
We descended, marching out into a lobby with a broad well polished hardwood floor, fine furniture, a grand piano, pool table and a bar. Sunlight and lamps in decorative wall sconces bathed the area in a fiery orange glow.
The Call woman stepped out from behind the bar, clad in an elegant black gown with a slit running up the side. The outfit caught Kihoon's eye, and a sense of wary respect out of all three children.
I, on the other claw, wouldn't have cared if she appeared before us naked. I only got cowed by lab coats.
The woman smiled, spreading her arms. "Welcome, guests. I must apologize for the rough treatment. We mean you no harm. We only wish to extract certain memories from you and send you back where you came from. As long as you cooperate, this process will be as quick and painless as possible."
Kihoon crossed his arms. "And if we don't?"
She frowned, put her hands on her hips. "We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we?"
"Where were you guys when all those things started attacking people on the base? If you can do that shit to Ernie, you could have stopped the other ones."
The robot froze. "We were required to remain at our station."
"Man, fuck you and your station! It's your fault my mom is dead!...(Piece of shit, useless no good robots)! Let me out of here!"
"All in good time!" The woman shook her head scoldingly. "Such language! First, your memories."
The boy scowled at her. "What...are these...quote unquote `certain memories' you're trying to extract?"
Call's face was an expressionless mask. "Nothing you'll miss. Just any and all information related to the DAMBALLAH project."
I growled, clenching my claws. "What about Sarah? Are you going to let her go, too?"
Call smiled. "I'm sorry, but we have other plans for her. Not to worry. Once we're done here, you'll never think about her again."
"No!" I shouted, leaping at her with my claws spread and teeth bared.
The woman calmly pointed her palm at me, and I froze in midair, as if in one of those human dreams about being stuck on a railroad track.
My body drifted back to its original position, settling on the polished oak.
"Relax. Allow the tension to escape your body. Just breathe, relax, and be free."
I did so, and found my movement restored.
"Will you let Ernie go?" Sarah asked.
I coughed with emotion. Faced with a life of imprisonment, and Sarah worried about me.
Call gazed at me thoughtfully. "Your friend is outside the scope of the project. That being said, if we ever have need of her for testing or samples, a tracking chip has been inserted in her exoskeleton."
I tensed, ready to rip the woman open, but again found my movements restricted.
"Relax. Your lungs are an ever expanding pool that expands outward. Breathe."
Unconsciously, I obeyed.
Call motioned to a circle of leather chairs. "Please. Make yourselves comfortable. If you cooperate, our business here will conclude quickly."
I had no choice but to climb into a loveseat.
With a slight smile, Sarah took the cushion next to me, Rebecca and Kihoon taking their places in chairs on either side of us.
The woman's high heels clicked loudly as she marched to a turntable at the bar, dropping the needle on a record. I recognized it by its first saxophone riffs. It's Easier by Eli Paperboy Reed, one of my favorite songs.
I never realized it before that moment, but Eli was very big on surrendering and forgetting things.
"Continue to relax and breathe as you follow my instructions..." the android said.
To the best of my knowledge, I have never been hypnotized before, at least, not in the traditional sense. Generally, when anything causes a Ss'sik'chtokiwij stress, they just rip out its throat and eat it.
I suppose, during my time as a lab specimen, restful activities like sewing and listening to music could have made me suggestible, but nobody ever subjected me to the genre of relaxation tapes. All I knew about hypnotism consisted of scary men with bushy eyebrows and shiny pocket watches, or giant swirling red and white wheels. That's why I fell for it.
Of course, I also had Eli telling me it was easy, very persuasive in and of itself.
Call casually paced to and fro before us, lulling us into a suggestible state. "I want you to focus all your thoughts on everything you think you know about the DAMBALLAH Project. Imagine all of those thoughts, those alleged memories, those ideas, as a giant ball. Just breathe, focus, and think about that ball, that sphere of ideas, those memories that seem so real to you. Relax, focus and think..."
As we obeyed this hypnotic command, large spheroids materialized in the air in front of each of us.
Kihoon's appeared first, an angry cartoon-like Chinese dragon that swam through the air, shredding flower petals, coalescing into a bright yellow ball with red stars on it. It turned into a red and white umbrella symbol, then changed into a ball of steel before reverting back to the Dragon Ball.
I didn't see what went into Rebecca's sphere, but it ended up as a scary green Tiki god.
Sarah's developed into a snake with a cowl of roses around its head, whirling and snapping at the air with cobra teeth. It grew fur that looked like the Cookie Monster's coat, then swirled into a manhole cover with Call's face on it. The face roared, then it swirled again, becoming a shiny cue ball.
The ball flew through the air, landing on the pool table, next to an identical looking orb. The android's face contorted in anger.
Call returned the cue to our cluster of floating orbs quickly enough, resuming her placid expression. "Nice try. But I know the difference."
Sarah frowned.
The woman, noting my distraction, appeared to become impatient, but she hid this well as she stood over me. "Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik, I want you to shut out all exterior distractions and focus. Focus on DAMBALLAH. Everything you think you know about the project. Let your thoughts shape themselves before you. Imagine you're rolling your knowledge into a large ball..."
My mental image began as seafood, then a human hand on a stick, then meat Baseball Jesus gave me. It transformed into a Ss'sik'chtokiwij egg with a spidery socmavaj poking out.
The sconce lamps dimmed, the sky outside turning to dusk.
"What's happening?" I asked.
"It is of little concern. This is a dream, and dreams have their own special meanings and rules. The rules of nature do not apply in the same way. Just relax, and focus on the ball..."
"It's the power," Kihoon answered like a zombie. "This environment is maintained by the electrical energy of our brains, but the control device runs on outside power."
"So we can take our memories back?" Rebecca asked.
Call became impatient looking again. "No. You must maintain focus. Relax your bodies. Devote your thoughts wholly to what you think you know about the program."
"I know what you're doing!" Kihoon cried. "You're trying to isolate a specific part of our brains to perform micro-lobotomies! God, I'm so stupid! Why didn't I think of this before!"
The floating pool cue fell to the floor with a loud crack.
Without a word, Sarah jumped up and pulled my ball of memories into her body, completely absorbing them.
The next minute, she just vanished into thin air.
"No!" Call screamed. "That's not supposed to happen!"
The woman picked up the cue, shattering the bar mirror with it.
"Seven years bad luck!" Kihoon joked.
The woman's head snapped in his direction, eyes blazing with rage.
"What," I said. "Just happened?"
"We have control. That's what." Kihoon willed his Dragon Ball to fly back into his body.
Rebecca furrowed her brow, and hers imploded, thousands of glittery stars retreating into her forehead.
That left only one conglomeration of memory. The second white ball cleverly concealed as part of the pool set. It flashed my name in the air when I looked at it. It seemed Call hadn't known the difference between the two cues, after all.
Sarah's memory.
Sarah's thoughts.
Not mine.
But Sarah was gone!
With my memories!
If I didn't take hers, they would, and probably erase them forever!
Already Call raced toward the table.
I reared up and jumped from the loveseat, tearing into the woman with my claws. I shouldn't have been able to clear such a distance, but none of this was actually real.
As I expected, the digital woman didn't die.
I used her prone body as a springboard, jumped up on the pool table, and in one big gulp, swallowed the cue ball whole.
It felt like I had eaten the forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden.
The entire building shook like a massive earthquake had hit it. Pictures fell off the wall, windows shattered, liquor tumbled off the bar, smashing messily on the floor.
The walls cracked open, revealing the black and green grid of the three dimensional modeling software, then the entire world collapsed on me.
When I awoke, I didn't feel right.
I felt small, my hands like tiny things inside giant invisible gloves.
Little fat hands.
My whole body tingled with sensations I've never experienced before, such as cool air upon flesh.
I lay surrounded by red maroon, staring at a framed Van Gogh. When I breathed, I saw a soft denim jumpsuit rising with my chest.
I touched my body, overwhelmed with fascination and dread.
Human! I was actually human!
What I always wanted!
...Wasn't it?
Feeling the uncomfortable pressure of a helmet stuck to my head, I quickly threw it aside.
A moment later, Call leaned over me, giving me a nasty smile. Her skin smelled strongly of chemicals and plastic. "We tried doing things the easy way. But you refused to cooperate."
Call plugged in a bone saw, brought out one of those giant industrial needles. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm afraid now we'll be needing to take a more direct approach."
Before she could make a move, I reached up and tore out her throat.